Holy Texts as art

This week’s chapter is called The Old Forest, and in it we continue to follow the company’s journey. Fatty Bolger’s fear of this place is no old superstition, we soon find. Whether the forest is haunted or evil or simply bothersome, it is an obstacle to be overcome. The trees speak to each other and move to block the hobbits’ path. The sun is blotted out by their branches and even sounds are muffled. We are told of a time the trees tried to attack the Shire, though they were beaten back by the Hobbits.  There is a mysterious path in the tall grasses that seems to move and change, and Merry wonders how any such path is made – who would travel here enough to make a path? Indeed, our thoughts turn to the Ents, and we understand why there is a need for tree-herders.

Suddenly the Hobbits begin to feel sleepy. Merry and Pippin quickly give in, leaning against some trees, but Sam and Frodo try to resist. Frodo goes to a creek to get some water while Sam wonders why he feels so tired. Sam hears a snap and a splash and goes toward the source.  He finds a tree holding Frodo down in the water. He pulls Frodo out, and they soon find Merry’s lower half sticking out of a tree (The snapping sound evidentially the tree closing itself up.) After pulling unsuccessfully, Sam proposes lighting a fire.

“’We might try to hurt or frighten this tree to begin with,’ said Sam fiercely, ‘If it don’t let him go, I’ll have it down, if I have to gnaw at it,’… But Frodo, without any clear idea of why he did so, or what he hoped for, ran along the path yelling help! help! help!”

From this we might be tempted to conclude that Frodo, the hero of the tale, falls to panic, while Sam, the humble gardener, shows great resilience and determination in the face of this crisis.  However, the results of their actions are not as we would expect.

Sam’s plan, well intentioned as it was, fails.  Once the fire is lit, Merry shouts from within the tree to put out the fire or “’He’ll squeeze me in two, if you don’t. He says so!’”  Meanwhile, Frodo’s panicked shouting, as useless as it seemed, precipitates the arrival of their savior. Now, it is my opinion that Frodo’s shouting doesn’t attract this being’s attention – he is surprised when he finally sees Frodo and Sam, but we cannot ignore the possibility that Frodo’s cries invoked some magic. As we will see, Tom Bombadil has immense power. And we have already seen the Old Forest’s power. Middle Earth is more than a faraway land with great evil and great heroes. There are also some elements that are well beyond our own world.

And this is where metaphors can become obstructive, not enlightening.  This tale we read did not happen.  We do not live in Middle Earth – its geography is not a lesson to us.  We do not live in Middle Earth, its magic does not apply to us.  It would be tempting to discuss what “Old Forests” are in our life.  Or maybe blind panic to situations can be more effective than thoughtful reaction.  That is the purpose of Holy Texts, of course.  To enlighten.  But Holy Texts are not instruction manuals.  Holy Texts do not present answers in 5-step processes.  Holy Texts are art.  Holy Texts are written interpretations of the world around us.  Some of the words have deep meanings.  Some have simple meanings.  Some have many meanings, some have one.  But some are mere flourishes of inspiration.

I do not say ‘mere’ to be dismissive.  I mean it simply.  There is nothing wrong with inspiration for the sake of inspiration.  And there is nothing wrong with enjoying and celebrating the inspiration.  But to place more meaning on it than intended, that is the problem.

There are times when we see events and ascribe meaning to them that have no right to earn meaning.  It is raining, thus I wasn’t meant to go outside.  I met my spouse at a party I attended on a whim – I was meant to go to that party.  I had a great Latin teacher and now I have a degree in Classics, so I was meant to have such an inspirational teacher.  I missed my taxi and was late getting to the airport and so I missed getting on my flight on 9/11; there must be a purpose I was left to do.

It is comforting to think in such ways.  When our life goes well, it is nice to believe something guided us.  And when it goes wrong, it is comforting to think that there WAS a path, we just missed it.  This is not to reject responsibility, but it is scary to be alone.  It is eases the terror that comes with freedom.  I am free to act in whatever way I want, but something will help me determine the best way.  The belief system is not problematic per se.  I do it, too.  Even so many atheists believe in Karma or good energy or gut intuition.  There must be something, something wiser, something to guide me.

But what does that say about human nature?  We crave meaning.  We search for – and find – patterns that are not real.  We find patterns that are not there!  We would rather lie to ourselves than admit ignorance.  How else do so many books on dating exist?  It is not so simple:  If so-and-so does this they like you.  Some say that action is a positive indicator, some say a negative one.  Who is willing to say it is not a reliable indicator of anything?  Further, who would accept that answer??

We want answers, even if they are false.

But the Old Forest isn’t representative of anything.  It is a flourish of inspiration.  A chance for the Creative Wizard (Tolkien) to show off a new and unparalleled world, where trees threaten to crush people if they are burnt down.  A world where trees attack civilization.  THOSE things are ripe with metaphor.  We can dig deep into either of those sentences.  But the Old Forest, itself, has little meaning.  And it would be a mistake to believe otherwise.  Every brushstroke has a purpose, but not every brushstroke has a meaning.

We must not, in the absence of Truth, accept mere ‘answers.’  It is good to know.  It is wisdom to accept what is not known.

(Note:  I don't think I was fated to have the late, great Dr. Fiveash.  But, oh, I am glad I did.)